


Polarize

by Flaming_Hearts14



Category: RPF - Fandom, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Depression, F/F, Homelessness, Multi, OFC is gay as fuck, Other, Panic Attacks, abuse (mentioned), friendship between Brendon and OFC, it's cute i promise, mental health, rape/non-con (mentioned), sibling relationship between Tyler and Josh and an OFC, suicide/suicidal thoughts (mentioned)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-30 18:13:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20101489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flaming_Hearts14/pseuds/Flaming_Hearts14
Summary: Coraline Marie Aldridge, more commonly known as Cory, is a 16-year-old girl whose life is beyond abnormal. Her father left when she was 9, she was sent to live with her aunt after her mother died at age 12, and her aunt kicked her out at age 13. Battling depression, anxiety and PTSD, she is sent to tour with twenty one pilots as their photographer. She meets Tyler and Josh, and soon learns that there's still good in the world, and things just might turn out okay.





	Polarize

_ **POLARIZE: divide or cause to divide into two sharply contrasting groups or sets of opinions or beliefs ** _

When I polarize myself, there’s two different categories: who I am, and who I want to be.

Who I want to be: A normal, happy, cool girl that people love and care about. I want to matter. I want to have purpose.

Who I am: the filthy, depressed, anxious, homeless girl that no one loves or cares about. I am unimportant. I am insignificant. My existence is pointless. The only reason I’m not dead is because I’m too afraid to find out what’s on the other side. Well, there is one other reason. It’s my reason to live. It’s my beacon of hope.

Photography.

I have been in love with photography ever since I was a little kid. When I turned 11, my mom got me a really expensive, really amazing camera. It’s incredibly professional, and it’s my pride and joy. I charge it in whatever store that offers charging station, and I take photos all the time. My favorite kind of photo to take is of people, but I’m too anxious to ask people if I can take photos of them, so I mostly do landscapes and still-lifes. My favorite photo I’ve taken lately is of a park bench under a street light at night. Granted, I slept on that bench that night, but it’s still my favorite.

Despite my homelessness, I’m employed. I’m an assistant to a photographer named Matthew Carlyle. You’d think I would be grateful for him hiring me, and you’d be right. I freaking love Matt. He’s literally the nicest guy ever, and he treats me like his little sister. My name is Coraline Marie Aldridge. I’m 16 years old and I live in a small town in New Jersey, called Wayne. When I was 9, my dad left my mom and I. She was happy, though, because their marriage was falling apart. When I turned 10, my mom got diagnosed with leukemia. Two weeks after I turned 12, she passed away. I was sent to live with my aunt, but she found out I’m gay and kicked me out. I’ve been homeless since age 13. I pull my sweater tighter around myself as I walk down the street through the April air. I walk across the parking lot of the shopping mall where Matt’s office is. I walk into the office, and the bell over the door jingles.

“Be right there!” a voice calls from the back, and I recognize it at Matt’s.

“It’s Cory.” I call back, and Matt comes in from the back, buttoning his dress shirt.

“Cory, you’re early.” he says, and I eye him. His hair is a mess, and he looks all disheveled.

“Uh… yeah.” I say, eyeing him. “I was late yesterday, I was trying to make up for it.” A woman walks out from the back room, her hair all messy and her makeup all smudged.

“Oh… uh…” She stares at me, trying to think of something to say. She can’t, so she just walks out of the office. I look at Matt.

“I thought you were trying the single thing for a while.” I say.

“I am.”

“But… I mean clearly something happened.”

“And?” he asks with a goofy grin, and I chuckle.

“Nevermind.” I reply, and I walk over to sit down at the desk. I may be his assistant, but I also act as his secretary on Tuesdays, because his actual secretary has her weekly day off. The phone rings, so I pick it up and put the receiver to my ear. “Carlyle Photography, how can I help you?” I ask, using the line Matt requires for when anyone answers phones.

“Hi, this is Chris Woltman, I’m looking for Matthew Carlyle?” a man asks. I look at Matt and raise a brow, and he shakes his head.

“He’s in a meeting right now, can I take a message?”

“Yes, please. I’m looking for a new photographer for a band I’m managing.” he replies, and I start taking short notes. “Their first North American leg begins on the 31st of next month, and they’re looking for someone to be their photographer throughout the entirety of their eleven month tour.”

“And what’s the name of the band?”

“Twenty One Pilots.” he replies, and my stomach does a backflip. I’m so obsessed with Twenty One Pilots! I love them so much, their music just speaks to me because the lyrics are all so relatable, what with my anxiety and depression. “Oh, um…” I stumble to find words, and Mr. Woltman laughs.

“Fan?” he asks.

“Yes, very much so.” I reply, and Matt raises a brow. “Well, I’ll run this by Mr. Carlyle and he’ll get back to you.”

“Thank you. And, uh, are you a photographer or just a secretary?” he asks.

“I’m a photographer too.” I reply.

“Have I ever heard of you?” I chuckle.

“Definitely not.” “What’s your name?”

“Coraline.” I reply, and Matt gives me a look, so I mouth “he’s asking”. He nods at that.

“How old are you? You sound young.” “I’m 16.” I reply, and Matt gives me a signal to wrap it up. “Sorry, I’ve got another call coming through. Can I have a phone number so Mr. Carlyle can call you back?”

“Uh, yeah. It’s 862-339-6095.” he replies, and I write that down.

“He’ll be reaching out to you shortly.” I say.

“Thank you, Coraline. Have a nice day.”

“You too, Mr. Woltman.” And with that, I hang up the phone.

“Who was that?” Matt asks, walking over and looking down at the notepad.

“Chris Woltman.” I reply. “He’s managing the band Twenty One Pilots and they’re looking for a photographer to work with them for the duration of their tour.”

“How long’s the tour?” he asks, looking the notes over.

“Eleven months.” I reply, and he looks at me.

“Isn’t that the band you listen to all the time?” he asks, and I nod.

“Do you think…”

“You wanna be the one to go on the tour, don’t you?” he asks with a smile, and I nod.

“I mean… yeah.” He chuckles at that.

“I dunno, Cory, this is kind of a big deal.”

“Please? You’ve been trying to find a big job for me, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, but… an eleven month tour? That’s a lot.”

“This is a lot, I agree, but I’m willing to do the work, Matt. Please?” He looks at me for a moment, then he smiles.

“I’ll call Woltman and tell him I’m sending someone.” he replies, and I leap up and attack him in a hug.

“THANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOU!” He grins and jokingly pushes me off.

“I expect you to check in with me twice a week.” he tells me.

“Yes, of course.” I agree excitedly, and he smiles.

“Honestly?” he says. “I think this will be good for you.”

“Me too.”

****

1 MONTH LATER

I take a deep breath as I walk off the plane with my carry-on. The tour is starting in Cincinnati. Honestly, I could have driven from New Jersey, but I can’t drive and Matt couldn’t drive me. So, I flew, paid for by Matt. I walk to baggage claim and grab my stuff, then I look through the airport for Chris Woltman, who is supposed to be meeting me here. Someone taps me on the shoulder, and I turn around and see someone in a red hoodie.

“Um… hi?” I ask.

“Coraline, right?” he asks, and I nod.

“I’m Chris.”

“Oh.” I say. “Hi. Nice to meet you.” I hold my hand out to him. “Call me Cory.”

“Nice to meet you, too.”

****

I get out of Chris’ car at the US Bank Arena, where Twenty One Pilots is performing tonight. His phone rings as I take my bags out of the backseat.

“I gotta take this.” he tells me. “Go claim one of the bunks on the tour bus, and then you can head into the arena through the stage door to meet the guys.” I nod as he answers his phone. I walk over to the bus and walk on, looking around in awe. It’s huge! I put my bags down on one of the bunks, grabbing my camera case and taking it out. I put the strap over my head so it can hang from my neck, and I walk off the bus. Taking a deep breath, I walk through the stage door, leading me to backstage. Please use discretion when you’re messin’ with the Message Man Tyler Joseph is singing into a microphone on the stage, and Josh Dun is jamming on the drum set. I immediately start snapping pictures, smiling as I do so. They look so at peace and comfortable when they do this, I love it. Someone grabs me, and I jump practically a foot in the air. I drop my camera, but then thank the lord I put it around my neck so it doesn’t hit the floor and break.

“What are you doing back here?” the man who grabbed me demands, and my anxiety hurls me into a dark pit.

“I… uh… I’m th-the…”

“What, you sneak in or something?” he asks angrily, and my heart rate rises.

“I… I just…” I feel myself start shaking. Just tell him you’re the photographer and Chris sent you! It’s not that hard! Tears start rolling down my face, and I struggle to make words.

“Scott?” A voice asks, and I see Josh Dun walking towards us. “Everything okay?”

“This girl snuck in and started taking pictures.” the guy, Scott replies. Josh sees the tears rolling down my face.

“Are you Coraline?” he asks, and I nod. He looks at Scott. “Scott, this is the new photographer Chris was telling us about.” Scott lets go of my arm.

“Sorry.” he says sheepishly, and Josh looks at me again.

“Are you okay?” he asks, and I find myself barely breathing as Scott walks away.

“Josh, what’s-” Tyler Joseph walks over, but he freezes when he sees me. “Uh… hi.”

_Great. My first time meeting my favorite band, and I’m having a panic attack in front of them. _

“Ty, this is Coraline, the new photographer.” Josh introduces me, and I try to wipe my tears. “I think Scott scared her.” He turns to me. “Are you having a panic attack?” I nod. “Yeah, trust me, I know what they look like.”

“Can I hug you?” Tyler asks, and I look at him. “I just feel better during a panic attack when someone hugs me.” I hesitate, but I nod. He walks up to me and wraps his arms around my waist, and I wrap mine around his neck. I know this is crazy weird, but he’s offering me comfort, so I’m gonna take it.

“Just remember to breathe, okay?” Josh says, walking around and standing in front of me. “That’ll make it go away faster.” I nod into Tyler’s shoulder and start taking deep breaths.

“I’m so sorry.” I manage to get out, and Tyler shushes me.

“Please don’t be sorry, it’s completely okay.” he tells me. “Please.”

“O-Okay.” I say. After a minute or two, I’m calm, so I pull away and wipe my eyes. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” he says, and he smiles at me. “Chris mentioned you have really bad anxiety.”

“How did he know?” I ask.

“Your boss told him.” Josh replies, and I sigh.

_Jee, thanks, Matt. _

“We both have it, so don’t feel bad.” Tyler tells me and I nod.

“Can I try and formally introduce myself?” I ask, and they both nod with smiles on their faces. “I’m Coraline Aldridge, but I go by Cory.”

“Nice to meet you, Cory.” Tyler says with a grin. “I’m Tyler Joseph.”

“And I’m Josh Dun, his best friend.” I smile.

“It’s an honor to meet you guys, I’m a big fan.”

“Aw, thanks.” Tyler says with a smile.

“So, can we get some shots?” I ask, and they both nod.

“Yeah, sure!” Josh replies. “Just tell us what to do.”

“Um… just… rehearse.” I tell them. “You guys look so naturally happy when you perform, it’s good.” They nod and go back to the stage. Tyler counts off and they go back to rehearsing Message Man. I take a ton of shots, and when they’re done, I let my camera hang from my neck again as I applaud. They both grin at me.


End file.
